484 Recollections of a Night of Fever. [May, 
close to me-—~ay, 80 close, that I could look into those terrible eyes and 
see myself imaged there. And I did so: I could not help it, in spite of 
the horror with which they inspired me. 
His shroud now folded round me—tighter—tighter—till the hair stood 
erect upon my head, and my breast laboured to bursting. I struggled 
and struggled, under the horrible sense of suffocation, while he folded 
me yet more closely, his voice sounding all the time, “ Encore un!” 
The catastrophe of this fearful struggle was lost to me in a rapid suc- 
cession of visions, that came more or less distinct, and again melted away, 
like those fantastic forms which the clouds build up in a summer’s even- 
ing, when the winds are high, and the sun is sinking amidst a world of 
vapours. I skimmed the air with the birds; I dived into the waters 
with the sea-mew ; or floated on its surface with a fleet of gallant barks, 
that were sailing to some tnknown land, which no one could name, but 
which all knew to be the land of the sun, where the spice grew like © 
acorns, and the stones of the highway were emeralds and diamonds. As 
we neared it, the air grew softer, the skies brighter, the waters clearer : 
it was a world unlike the world we had left, not in degree, but in kind ; 
and the feelings it excited required a new language for their expression. — 
But even then the scene faded. I was burning at the stake by the side © 
of the Huguenots, surrounded by thousands, who in general did not, or — 
dared not, pity us, though the faces of many were convulsed with eager ~ 
horror ; and here and there the features of some young female, in despite _ 
of beads and rosary, expressed a sympathy with our fate. The flames ~ 
from the new-lit fagots hissed like serpents. Anon, before the fires, 
that wrapt us as with a garment, were burnt out, I was tossing on the ~ 
waters of the Polar Sea, amidst mountains of blue ice, whose tops were — 
in the clouds. The surge dashed and broke upon these colossal masses — 
as upon so many rocks of granite. On a sudden, a crash like thunder — 
stilled the mutinous billows. The huge icebergs were rent and shivered, 
and their summits dissolved into floods, that came roaring and tum- — 
bling down their rugged sides, till all around us was a world of cataracts, — 
and in the pool below our little bark tossed and eddied like a dry leaf in 
the whirlwind. i 
Again the scene changed. I was an Indian prince, hunting the tiger 
with my attendant rajahs, richer and prouder than the Persian satraps of 
old, when Xerxes led forth his millions to perish on the Grecian soil, and 
build up an everlasting record to the glory of the Athenian. The sun 
set,—and rose,—and again it set,—and still we were following our spot- 
ted prey over stock and stone, dashing through rivers and down pre- 
cipices so steep, the chamois must have broken his neck in the attempt. 
to descend them, till I had at last far—far outstripped my companions of 
the chase. The tiger was now within a few yards of me. I fired, and 
wounded him in the flank, as was evident from the gush of blood that 
followed. The animal turned suddenly round upon me, rearing himself 
on his hind-legs with a hideous growl that sounded like a human laugh, 
and,—horror !—there again was the man of blood, with his ery ¢ f 
« Encore un!” Tongue cannot tell, nor brain imagine, the despair, # 
loathing, the shrinking of soul and body, that I experienced at agai 
coming in contact with this éternal apparition! I called on the sands @ 
the desert, to rise in clouds and bury me—on the mountains, to fall ar 
crush me—on the distant ocean, to ascend in a second deluge and swallow 
me. And my wish seemed likely to be accomplished ; for, while I w 
